


Just Living

by neganstonguething



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Polyamory, polyship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-07
Updated: 2017-09-07
Packaged: 2018-12-24 23:37:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12023466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neganstonguething/pseuds/neganstonguething
Summary: They may just be three men in an unfortunate situation trying to get by, but they're in it together.





	Just Living

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vyrenrolar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vyrenrolar/gifts).



> This was requested by a user on tumblr--not sure if they want me to mention their names or not. They requested a Sam/Bucky/Steve oneshot in which they're just trying to learn how to live and get by together. 
> 
> You may notice some very minor, non-spoilery nods to later Avengers and Captain America movies, but this one takes place after The Winter Soldier. There are some different elements, and some held to canon. But I didn't intend this to fit snugly in canon by any means. The person who requested hasn't seen all of the movies yet, and I didn't want to spoil it for them!
> 
> Hope y'all enjoy!

“I know what you’re gonna say.” Natasha’s lips are bright red as she speaks, eyes closed, her words exhaled in a deep sigh. This isn’t a conversation she and Steve are having for the first time. “You’re gonna tell me that you’re still sure this is the right thing to do.”

“I am.” Steve answers. He’s got his shoulders squared in that rigid posture of sureness that he’s mastered so well. “And even if it isn’t the right thing, I’m going to find a way to make it right. That man in there?” He nods toward the doors he and Natasha are standing in front of. “He’s not who you think he is.”

“He’s not who _they_ think he is.” Natasha corrects, giving Steve a confident smile. “I know who he is. I trust _you_ to know who he is. When I warned you not to try and find him, it wasn’t because of him as a person. There’s just a lot we don’t know, yet. Just…watch your back, will you? You’re playing a dangerous game, here—being a hero and a savior at the same time.”

Steve sighs and shakes his head. A smile tugs at his lips. “I’m not sure if that’s what you’d call it. But I appreciate the vote of confidence.”

A playful smile works its way onto Natasha’s face. “It’s something, right? Anyway, I’ve got your back. Just make sure you have it, too.”

“Roger that.” Steve nods. “I’ll see you around.”

“You’d better.”

And like that, the Black Widow is gone, leaving just Steve standing there, out in the middle of nowhere, a small farmhouse waiting behind him. It’s quaint, but it’s home now.

Steve turns to face the sliding double doors behind him. The farmhouse is two stories, but compact. A single bathroom, kitchen, living room, and bedroom occupy the first floor. On the second are two bedrooms and another small bathroom. Just enough for three men to live comfortably.

In secret.

The idea came to Steve not long after he and Sam finally managed to locate Bucky. Considering the supposed Winter Soldier was still very much a wanted man, he and Steve needed to disappear—they needed to get off the radar. Between Sam’s insistence to tag along and help and S.H.I.E.L.D., this little farmhouse became their new dwelling.

Steve likes it. Sure, he’s spent most of his not-frozen life in big cities, but the times in the service, out in the wilderness, it was plenty enjoyable. Maybe not so much before the serum, but Steve would have tried anyway.

In any case, it’s nice. Pleasant, safe, homey, and Steve has all the people he needs. It’s just himself, Sam, and Bucky, with the occasional visit from some of his team or a stray animal, and it’s nice.

He finally steps inside, entering directly into a living room. For such a small home, the living room is decently sized. About halfway through the room is a plush couch that faces a fake fireplace with a television mounted over it. There’s no cable, satellite, or internet for safety reasons, so Sam is currently entertaining himself over a game on his Xbox 360. To his right, Bucky sits with his flesh arm draped lazily over the arm of the couch. He doesn’t look quite as interested as Sam does.

Sam understands, and so does Steve. Bucky is still fresh out of mind control. He’s still processing everything that’s happened, and everyone who surrounds him right now. He knows he’s in danger, and he views himself _as_ a danger. He has to stay indoors at all times on the off-chance that he might be spotted, and that does a lot to a person. Steve wouldn’t be surprised if his best friend felt more isolated now than he had during his time under Hydra’s control.

And he feels awful for it. He wants nothing more than to give Bucky more of a life than this. But until his name is cleared from Winter Soldier to James Buchanan Barnes, that’s not about to happen.

Sam isn’t having as much difficulty adjusting to a life of self-induced exile. He and Steve still go running together, and unlike Bucky, they get to go out on missions from time to time. They’re not feeling bored or isolated. Or well, not as bored or isolated as Bucky probably feels. Sam has voiced that he gave up a lot to come here and he misses it a lot of the time, but he’s also told Steve he has no regrets.

“Hey.” Steve greets. He keeps the optimism in his voice, and when both men greet him, he can’t help but smile. Sam’s got a big grin on his face, and even though Bucky’s expression almost seems bored, it’s closer to a friendly gesture than what Steve usually gets to see.

“You’re back.” Sam offers Steve a controller, but the Captain shakes his head. He takes a seat on Sam’s free side. “How’d it go with Nat? Everything alright over there?”

“Sounds like it.” Steve nods. “Either that, or she’s a master at keeping things from me.” He likes to trust that Natasha wouldn’t keep anything too important from him, but he doesn’t have a doubt in his mind that there are things she and the rest of the Avengers are dealing with that she has decided not to bring up, either because they’re not that big of a deal or because she doesn’t want him going out here and potentially giving away his location. She’s stated on many occasions that Steve is putting himself into hot water with his decision to live out here, because it won’t just be Bucky who gets in trouble when he gets busted. It’ll be all three of them, and maybe the Avengers for not telling anyone.

“Could be both.” Sam shrugs. A hand falls to Steve’s thigh, giving it a squeeze. “Doesn’t matter if she doesn’t think it does, though. You know she’s got her ass covered. Did you have fun?”

“I did.” Steve answers. He curls an arm around Sam’s shoulders and shifts in closer as the other man deposits his controller on the coffee table. “We talked a lot. She had a lot to say.”

“Like what?” Sam asks.

“Well, a lot about Tony, for starters.” Steve laughs. “The two of them fight like cats and dogs.”

“You can say that again.” Sam chuckles with him.

Steve just about opens his mouth to speak again, but when he draws his focus across Sam to Bucky, his expression falters.

The other man is in his own world. He’s staring down at the ground with a gaze so ferocious it could sear a hole clean into the ground, and he’s not speaking. The fingers on his right hand tap out a silent tune on the arm of the couch, while his metal hand is gnarled into a tight fist. Steve frowns.

“…Bucky.”

Bucky doesn’t move. As if in a trance, he continues to stare ahead, not-so-blissfully unaware of everything going on around him.

“Buck.” Steve tries again, but no response. So he gently pulls himself from Sam’s grip and gets to his feet, moving to crouch in front of his other roommate. Bucky’s gaze, interrupted, immediately shifts up to meet Steve’s. He looks shocked, but calms almost instantly.

“Steve.” He says, voice flat, clearly trying to pretend he hadn’t just zoned out. “What’s wrong?”

They’ve been at this whole living together thing for months. It’s been an endeavor—just three men trying to learn how to get by in a completely new lifestyle—but it’s likely been the hardest for one James Buchanan Barnes. Bucky doesn’t just have to deal with the fact that he’s starting over. It’s more like he’s starting over for the hundredth time. He’s got _everyone_ looking for him. Not just law enforcement or whoever. There isn’t a doubt in Steve’s mind that Hydra’s still actively searching. And on top of that, his memories are fragmented and tragic. Nightmares plague him at night and flashbacks haunt him during the day. He’s still trying to learn who he is now, and his outlook on life is often negative.

Steve and Sam can attempt to be positive influences all they want to be, but they just…don’t get it. And Steve knows that all too well.

It aches a great deal to not be able to do much more than hear Bucky out when things need to be said, but it’d be nice if doing so actually helped him for the long-term from time to time.

“Nothing’s wrong.” Steve finally answers. “Unless you think something’s wrong. It’s okay to talk about it, Buck. Spill.”

Bucky shakes his head. “Nothing’s wrong. Let’s just get back to video games.”

“You weren’t even playing.” Sam cocks an eyebrow.

“I was watching.”

“That ain’t playing.” Sam frowns. “Besides, you’re not paying attention.”

“Yes, I am.” Bucky retorts. “I’m just a better multitasker than you.”

“Says you.”

Steve contemplates breaking up the lighthearted argument between the two men, because they’ve had a tendency to get a little out of hand before. But when Sam stuffs a controller into Bucky’s hand, the blond decides it’ll be alright for now.

“You guys thirsty?” Steve asks, though he gains no response. Both Bucky and Sam are still bickering. Either way, he rounds the couch and starts into the kitchen. There’s not a whole lot to drink in the fridge, so Steve suffices with ice water. His high metabolism makes for a big appetite, too, so when he closes the fridge, he can hear his stomach growling. For now, though, he keeps his hunger to himself.

Instead, he arms himself with three glasses of water and makes to start out the doorway. When he finds himself greeted to a faceful of Bucky Barnes, however, he stops dead in his tracks. He’s just barely registered to the other man’s presence before Bucky starts tugging glasses out of his hands, places them on a nearby counter, and shoves him back.

“Not thirsty?” Steve tries to joke, but soon enough, his back is up against the door of the fridge and Bucky’s mouth is on his. It’s heated and passionate—nothing Steve isn’t used to, but the urgency is a little alarming. All in a matter of a few seconds, Bucky’s hands are all over Steve’s body, roaming up under the tight T-shirt he’s sporting, hips pressed tight against Steve’s.

Gently, he pushes his partner back.

“…What’s going on?” He questions. It has nothing to do with the kiss and everything to do with the nature of it. Did Bucky actually expect them to keep going like this in the middle of the kitchen?

“I need you.” Bucky growls. “Now.”

“Now?” Steve raises both eyebrows. “Bucky, you’re in the middle of a game.”

“We didn’t even start.” The former Winter Soldier growls, visibly impatient.

To be honest, Steve doesn’t need to see the scrunched brow and the flat mouth to tell Bucky’s upset. And he’s also perceptive enough, having known his friend as long as he has, to know that this isn’t just because he wants to get some action against a refrigerator in the kitchen. He’s got some sort of pent-up emotion getting the best of him, and instead of talking about it, he’d rather screw out the frustration. A Bucky fresh out of hypnosis doesn’t handle his feelings near as well as the one from all those years ago. He’s still got a long way to go.

“You still can.” Steve pushes, crossing his arms. He knows he has a tendency to worry too much sometimes, but he also feels he has a right to. “Or you can talk to me about what’s bothering you.”

“I don’t want to.” Bucky snaps. “What I want right now—”

“I know what you want right now.” Steve sighs. “You got that point across. But it’s not going to do any more good than sitting out there fuming is going to do. Just talk to me.”

Bucky scowls. The dark bags under his eyes seem to sink even further, before he slumps his shoulders and glares down at the ground.

“I…guess I’m just having a bad day.”

The statement actually makes perfect sense. Even as sad as Bucky’s story is, he’s not always the big grumpy huffmonster he is today. Yeah, he’s not the giddiest guy in the universe either, but this mood…yeah, Steve could see him having a bad day.

“It’s just…how long can we keep this up?” Bucky continues. He steps back until he’s able to rest his elbows on the counter behind him. “We can only stay in hiding for so long.”

Steve frowns. “We just have to keep it going until we can clear your name—”

“That’s ridiculous, Steve.” Bucky snaps amidst a growl. “You can discount all the things I’ve done because you know me. But you can’t do it for everyone else. In the eyes of nearly every goddamn country in the world, I’m a murderer. That’s just how it is.”

When Steve opens his mouth to retort, Bucky cuts him off. “It doesn’t matter that it was Hydra’s mind control doing it. People are still dead by my hand, Steve.”

Of course Steve knows Bucky’s right. It doesn’t take a genius to figure that kind of thing out. And yeah, Steve’s got a mental block in the form of a childhood friendship and an emotional attachment, but that doesn’t exactly deter others from seeing him as a criminal. The unfortunate truth is that he _is_ one. Steve’s still got a mixture of blind hope and unwavering determination keeping him from giving up, but even if the Winter Soldier and Bucky became seen as two different people, Bucky, the one with bloody hands, would still have to answer to those families who had lost loved ones.

Love makes you stupid, but Steve isn’t _that_ ignorant.

“So yeah…bad day.” Bucky finishes. He immediately looks like he wants to apologize for snapping like he had, but he doesn’t. Instead, he cards his fingers through his messy hair and decides to head for the stairs. Steve follows him out of the kitchen, but not up the stairs. He sees Sam standing next to him out of the corner of his periphery.

“You know, it’s wrong of me,” Sam starts as he watches Bucky’s feet disappear past the ceiling, “but I get so goddamn tired of seeing him like that.” Steve casts a glance his way. “When you get him in a good mood, he’s fun as hell, gets really into what he’s doing. Hell, he broke my third controller he was focusing so hard the other day. But he’s been like this all day today. And he’s got more moods like this than good ones. I know he can’t help it, but I wish he’d cheer up more often.”

Steve frowns, then cracks a small smile. “He’ll get there, Sam. If you’d known the Bucky I knew before the war, you’d agree with me.”

“Nah,” Sam shrugs, “I got faith in what you’re saying. I just wish I could see it for myself.”

Despite the negativity of his recent conversation with Bucky, Steve nods firmly. “You will.”

\--- --- --- --- ---

That night, Bucky’s nightmares are worse than usual. Steve and Sam both find themselves awake multiple times throughout the night trying to pull him out of the violent stupors he finds himself in. By the third time, Steve’s got a nice shiner on his right cheekbone and Sam’s nursing a split lip. They know Bucky can’t help it, because what he sees is Hydra trying to put him under again, or families that were crushed by his hands. He remembers awful things through his dreams, and he relives them so vividly that it often takes a lot of work to bring him back to the present.

This time, Bucky’s awake and upright in his bed. Steve and Sam are a handful of feet away on either side, just watching. They’re testing the waters—trying to see just how much of Bucky they have back. All three of them are panting. Across the bed, Sam and Steve exchange nervous glances, before turning their attention back to Bucky.

Bucky doesn’t look up. He’s got his hands balled into fists in his lap around the sheets. His frustration is escalated, and the tension mounting. He’s shaking.

“C’mon, man…” Sam tries, clearly frustrated. “Snap out of it.”

“I _am_ out of it.” Bucky responds, still as tense and unstable as ever. “I’m fine. Just let me go back to sleep.”

And then what? Another nightmare? Another instance of Steve and Sam rushing in to stop Bucky from destroying his entire bedroom? Not a chance.

Steve drops his defensive stance and takes a few long strides to the edge of the bed. He drops a hand down to rest it on Bucky’s shoulder. Metal. Cold metal. Bucky responds to it like it’s his own skin, though, and turns his focus up to Steve. His eyes are tired…so tired.

“C’mon.” His fingers drift down along Bucky’s arm to his hand, closing around metal fingers. “Come with me.”

Bucky stares for a few more seconds, before he turns his head to look at Sam. The Falcon just smiles, props a hand on one of his hips, and nods to their Captain. “You heard the man. Let’s go.”

This isn’t the first night they’ve done this. The three might each have their own individual bedrooms, but it’s not uncommon for them to find themselves together in just one. Steve’s bed is the biggest, and he’s got no problem letting Bucky sleep right in the middle, with Steve on one side of him and Sam on the other.

It isn’t just on sleepless nights, either. Some nights, they start out this way. Others, they go to bed and then decide they’re not ready to sleep, yet. Tonight, it’s just a longing for a little comfort and a lot of affection. Bucky doesn’t go to sleep right away, and when Steve opens his eyes to the other two men kissing heatedly, he knows the three of them still have a ways to go before it’s bedtime.

It’s strange to Steve, how easily Bucky and Sam can be seen as enemies to the naked eye. On the outside, they’re constantly bickering over silly things, like videogames or how much cheese is too much cheese on a hamburger. But in their more private moments, they’re gentle and passionate with one another. Sam’s eyebrows are furrowed just right, his left hand on Bucky’s face and the right pulling down on the small of his back, bringing their hips together. It’d be more of a private sight if Steve didn’t already know better.

None of them went into this knowing how it would work. It just…does. They’re there for one another. Steve’s got his earnest belief in doing the right thing. Bucky’s got his loyalty and strength. And Sam’s got his support and charisma. They’re perfect together, all three of them.

It didn’t start long after they moved in together. A week or so and a few pairs of wandering hands in, they’d established…something was there. All they have out here is one another, after all. Strong feelings give way easily when all you have around you are those you feel so strongly for.

Steve can’t speak for his partners, but he can say he adores both of them. He loves watching them exchange snark over petty things like earlier, or the way their hips are gyrating together now. Loves hearing the breathy exchange between them, of lips and tongues. Bucky keeps his metal hand on the bed, but his other wanders along Sam’s bare chest.

Steve reaches out, trails a few gentle fingers along Bucky’s flesh arm. The two men stop kissing, just so that they can regard him, and Bucky leans over and presses his lips to Steve’s. The whole exchange is slow and passionate, from the exploring fingers to the way Bucky kisses Steve more needily when Sam pushes a slow thrust into him. He pants, rocking his hips against Bucky’s in time with Sam’s movements. The friction is everywhere, and when Bucky moans, so do Steve and Sam.

They come apart just like that, a tangle of arms and legs and mouths, until they fall into a breathy pile on the mattress. And when Bucky falls asleep this time, he doesn’t wake up until morning.

\--- --- --- --- ---

“No, I’m not saying it’s going to work.” Their visitor this time is one Tony Stark, who is attaching some sort of headgear to the top of Bucky’s head. It isn’t gaudy—it’s a thin black strip that’s almost invisible beneath Bucky’s mop of hair, just leaving the forehead. Tony’s facing an onslaught of questions, like ‘is it going to do something to his brain?’ and ‘can I wear it in the water?’ But the current question is ‘are you sure it’s going to work?’

Steve knows Tony’s used to these kinds of questions, though, so he makes no effort to stop either Bucky or Sam from asking them. Tony just shrugs as he makes the object lock into place on the back of Bucky’s head.

“I tested it on Banner and it worked just fine. Didn’t screw him up any.”

“Why isn’t he here?” Steve questions, a friendly jab in Tony’s direction.

“Not because of this, that’s for sure. The guy’s got his own green guy life doing green guy things, what the hell do you think he would want to come out here for?” Tony cocks an eyebrow.

“Oh, come on.” Steve just grins. “It’s cozy here. He’d love it.”

Tony rolls his eyes.

“What exactly does it do?” Bucky asks. He seems to be attempting to look at the band on his forehead, which isn’t working. The crossed eyes and comical wrinkle of his nose is pretty adorable, though.

“Simple.” Tony answers. “You want to go outside without being spotted. This thing takes your heat signature right off the map. Doesn’t do much good if they’ve got helicopters circling this place like buzzards, and I could fix it by camouflaging you somehow. But I’ll have to cross that bridge when Cap here stops getting separation anxiety every time you disappear into another room.”

Steve doesn’t give that quip a response. He instead stares Tony down and then focuses on Bucky. “…Does it feel any different?”

Bucky shrugs. “About like I’ve got a plastic sweatband on.”

“ _Vinyl.”_ Tony corrects. “The material’s a work in progress. Just try it out. Get some fresh air.”

Bucky’s been pushing for fresh air ever since the night his bad dreams got worse on him. So when Tony gives him the ‘okay’ to step out, he does. He’s normally quick to doubt things like this, but Steve and Sam both know he’s been desperate to do something about the cabin fever starting to take him over, so Steve has been putting a bug in whoever’s ear he could to see if Tony could do something.

Apparently, Tony can.

Bucky stops at the front doors, freezing for just a moment to allow himself some anxiety. He has a right to be afraid, after all. And knowing Bucky, Steve figures he’s also hoping this doesn’t get him and Sam into trouble.

The breeze hits him the instant the door opens. Steve watches the way the wind blows his hair back just slightly, and how he shudders into the cool air’s gentle touch. He smiles when Bucky inhales deeply, and when he takes off running, he and Sam follow suit.

They’re like dogs in a field at that point, sprinting through and savoring their freedom. Bucky’s silent for the most part, but a half mile later, he’s whooping and hollering at the top of his lungs. He sprints for a good two miles, before he turns around and throws his hands into the air. A gigantic smile stretches across his lips, and Steve mirrors the smile. Behind him, Sam catches up.

“Man…” He gasps. “I’m just a regular guy. You gotta stop taking off like that.”

Bucky flops over into the grass onto his back. Steve follows suit, and the panting Sam soon joins them.

“Shit…that…yeah, that was exactly what I needed.” Bucky thinks aloud, a little out of breath himself. He grins up at the cloudy sky like it’s the best thing he’s ever seen in his life.

“I told you we’d find a way to get by.” Steve smiles. He jumps, bursting into chuckles when Sam elbows him.

“You can’t take credit for it. That was all Stark.” Sam says.

“He can have all the credit.” Steve jokes. “Who invents a vinyl sweatband? Seems a little counterproductive to me.”

“Not to me.” Bucky joins in. “Guys…this is amazing.”

Steve knows Bucky doesn’t have much out here. He knows the other man feels guilty for everything that’s happened. He knows Bucky blames himself for far too much.

And he knows Sam often thinks about what he left behind to come out here. He knows how much Sam gave up, and he appreciates it with every ounce of his being. As he pulls both men in close, he can’t stop himself from thinking about how this is their life. And they may just be three men in an unfortunate situation trying to get by, but they’re in it together.

He wouldn’t have it any other way.


End file.
